His Little Bird
by Re-Rei
Summary: "If you love something, set it free. If it doesn't come back, it was never meant to be." Charles wanted to keep it forever, but he knew that his little bird was meant to be free.


Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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><p><em>3:07 A.M.<em>

Charles gawked at the clock in disbelief; surely he couldn't have been working for _that _long. He rubbed his eyes and glared at the clock again, almost challenging it to prove him wrong. The numbers remained the same. He sighed in defeat and looked away. Blinking tiredly he found himself staring at his desk. All sorts of paperwork was strewn all across the wooden surface in a chaotic fashion, making it near impossible to actually _see_ the desk itself. He growled as he re-organized his work, putting everything back in order in a matter of seconds. Once he was done, he grabbed his pen and resumed his work from where he left off.

Or at least he tried.

He really did try to concentrate, but when the words on the paper started to blur, he knew he was failing horribly. He quickly filed his work away and returned his writing utensils back to their proper places. Exhaling loudly, he glanced at the lamp on his desk before reaching over and clicking it off.

It was definitely time to go to bed.

He idly thought about his options. He could stay where he was and sleep in his study or he could go back to his room and sleep there. He grimaced at both options. With what little energy he had left, Charles highly doubted he would even make it out of the door. But sleeping at his desk was not only extremely uncomfortable, he was almost guaranteed to wake up with a sore back. After another moment of deliberation, he decided that sleeping in his room was the lesser of two evils.

Grumbling quietly, he wheeled himself out of his study. To his sleep deprived mind, the small journey down the hall seemed like an impossible feat. But nonetheless, he found himself pushing his room door open. He approached his bed and expertly lifted himself out of his wheelchair and onto his mattress. He pulled the covers over him and buried his head deep into his feather-soft pillow. Once he was comfortable, he closed his eyes and slowly he began to drift off to sleep…

_Clatter! Bang!_

What the…?

His eyes snapped open as he shot up from his bed. On pure instinct, he brought a hand to his temple and concentrated. Frowning, he started combing his mansion for anything out of the ordinary. All the boys were sleeping, even Hank, and there was no one else living in the mansion but them. Everything felt fine fine until he something foreign brushed against his mind. Warning bells ringing in his head, he latched onto the strange presence and entered its mind.

But there was no mind _to_ enter.

His eyebrow twitched at empty feeling. It felt like a void...

He shook his head and suppressed the memories before he tried again. But the result was still the same; there was nothing to be found.

Grabbing the bat he kept by his bed, he hauled himself back onto his wheelchair. He exited his room and carefully made his way down the dark corridors as silently as possible. He felt an odd sense of déjà vu as his grip on the bat tightened. Minutes slid by in meaningless fragments as he neared the place where he felt the void.

The kitchen.

Biting his lip he entered the room, his bat ready to strike the intruder when the need arose. Taking a deep breath, he scanned the room. A moment passed before he found the source of the void.

Beady eyes stared at him.

Charles blinked and after a few tense seconds, he relaxed his stance and placed the bat on his lap.

It was only a raven.

The bird just stood there, feathers in a tangled mess, with its head slightly titled to the left as if it were asking the question, "_Who?_"

He tenderly cupped the raven in his hands. The raven started claw at him a bit but it didn't fly away. He smiled kindly at the bird and slowly it stopped scratching him. "Don't worry," He whispered softly as he gently smoothed its ruffled feathers, "I won't hurt you."

"Now why would you be here, my little friend, at this ungodly hour in the night?" He asked the bird.

The raven, as he expected, didn't answer.

Charles smiled once more.

Despite having known the bird for only a short while, he found himself becoming quickly attached to it. He felt as if it understood him on some weird level. Both of them were outcasts in their own race. For the raven, its dull black colour made it an anomaly amongst the other birds with their vibrant and colourful feathers. For him, his mutation made him something to be feared and resented in the world of humans. They had so many similarities but they also had their differences.

He knew that no matter how much he wanted to keep the little bird, he couldn't. The raven deserved to be free and he couldn't keep it caged within his house just because he wanted its company. That would be an injustice to such an amazing creature.

He shifted the bird onto one hand and used his free one to wheel himself towards an open window.

"You probably got in here through this window." He said, "So this is how you're going to get out, my friend."

He held out the hand that was holding the bird, "Fly, little one, fly and be free." The raven blinked before looking away. It opened its wings wide before flapping them and taking off. A sad smile graced his lips as the raven disappeared into the night sky.

"It's true what they say. _If you love something, set it free. If it doesn't come back, it was never meant to be…_"

The raven never came back.

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><p>Hello people! Robot's back :D<p>

**If enough people like this chapter, I might turn this into a one-shot series. I'm doing requests. I won't write anything rated M. I can write hugs, kisses and cuddles though. Angst-ridden stories are my strength, humour...well I'll try but don't expect anything good. I'll also do AUs as long as you provide the details. Oh and I can't write slash to save my life, I can't even write romance to begin with. I'll just leave it to the pros :D Don't expect super-fast updates though. I have other stories to work with and they're more important than this. This fic is like a journal where I can keep excess plot bunnies in so they don't torture me and interfere with my other stories:D**

This chaper has been in my head for quite a while now ;) I'm pleased with how it came out. All grammar/spelling mistakes are of my own fault.

Ah the quote. I don't own it. I think a proverb wrote it? If anyone knows, tell me. I know the one I used isnt' the original but I heard this version a long time ago and I liked how it sounded.


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